


Toy

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dom/sub, Dominance, Ficlet, M/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4591449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil returns to find his naughty kittens ready and waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Anything with Fili and Kili being in a relationship with Thranduil. Like, anything as long as its consensual” prompt on [the Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/9471.html?thread=20624639#t20624639).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He can tell before he’s entered his quarters that both his favourite treats lie inside—otherwise the guards would be frantically running about instead of standing watch of them. Thranduil slips past both elves without a word, opening the door to his already candle-lit quarters. Some remnants of the stars slip in through the roof of branches; he rarely retires until long after the sun’s set. He’s a king, after all, and unlike the other royalty he owns, he has certain duties. 

The two princes that sit on his bed have only one duty: to please him. They do it well, the same as any other night, perched on the foot of his mattress with their hands on their knees, leaning forward. The two omegas have their ears perked, matching, fuzzy triangles, one set of gold and the other brown, lazy tails occasionally flicking behind them. Thranduil strolls towards them in the wake of his closed doors, belatedly noticing what’s different than most nights: they’re wearing _Elven_ robes.

Half wearing, anyway. They’re both disheveled, robes open to show tantalizing peeks of creamy skin, one of Fíli’s shoulders showing and much of Kíli’s legs poking out. They lean even closer when he comes, their eyes already dilated, _pining_ for him, as they so often do. Their clothing alone speaks volumes. Since Thranduil was first given them, they’ve stubbornly persisted in their Dwarven ways, and they seem to enjoy tromping their big boots around his kingdom. Yet now their feet are bare, and they look up at him with flushed cheeks and bitten lips, smelling of pure _sex_. 

Thranduil stops at the foot of the bed, looking down and musing, “Have you both gone into heat?” Somehow, he thought it would be more intense—Legolas practically ripped all his clothes off the second he went into his. But Fíli and Kíli shake their heads, smiling broad.

“No,” Fíli coos, “we just missed you.” His hands curl into fists like paws, but he smartly doesn’t lift them—it’s taken plenty of time, but he’s finally trained his kittens to know that he rewards good behaviour and punishes the bad.

Kíli makes a mewling noise in the back of his throat, but Thranduil dips to Fíli first. He loops one finger under Fíli’s scruffy chin, tilting it up to him, and he kisses Fíli long and hard. His tongue dives in right away, _ravenous_ , because his pleading pets make him so _hungry_ , and Fíli kisses him so desperately back. While Thranduil plunders Fíli’s mouth, Kíli whines, leaning forward to nuzzle into Thranduil’s face. As soon as Thranduil’s done with Fíli, he turns to Kíli, giving all the same treatment and swallowing Kíli’s delighted smile. 

When he pulls back, he chuckles, “How furious your uncle would be to see how wanton you are for me.” They both smile sweetly at his smirk, having been fully seduced onto his side. Thorin agreed to their gift, but it was clear on his face that he didn’t like it. 

Kíli mewls mischievously, “That’s just because he hasn’t seen you naked.” Thranduil rewards him by petting back through his dark hair, which always makes Kíli close his eyes, gasp and purr.

Fíli lifts on his knees to press his nose into Thranduil’s neck, nuzzling and begging so prettily, “Please, please take us.” Thranduil’s other hand lifts to Fíli’s chin, petting him there.

Fíli’s beard is getting a bit too long again, and as Thranduil strokes it idly, he dips his other hand beneath Kíli’s chin—still with stubble, but more manageable. He’ll have to give them both a trim. But the examination brings on other things, and as Fíli rolls his body forward, Thranduil spots a patch of brown smeared across his stomach. Pushing them each back with one hand, Thranduil parts their robes further and now understands where their usual garments must have gone—too be washed. Mud’s smeared across them both; they must’ve come from rolling around in his forest. 

He tsks, “You ask to be taken, and yet you bring dirt into my quarters. You know how I feel about you playing outside...”

Dwarves don’t seem especially good at remembering baths. Both princes wrinkle their noses, and Kíli tries to cover it by purring, “I thought you liked us dirty?”

Thranduil almost snorts. They whine when he straights again, hands slipping off them, and they crawl forward, as close as they can without touching him, leaning up on their knees but still much shorter than him, even with the bed’s help. They’re so very _cute_ , with their ears flattened sadly back and their pink lips pouting, eyes wide and full of _want_. He’s almost tempted to fetch their cages, make them even more lewd in their punishment for disobedience, but he knows a bit of dirt doesn’t quite merit it. To them, it seems being denied his love is punishment enough. 

Finally he decides to nod towards the washroom and sigh, “Off you go, both of you. I will bathe you, and then we shall see if you have been worthy of my touch tonight.”

“You just want us wet,” Fíli mumbles, still pouting, Kíli looking much the same. 

Thranduil merely responds, “No, I wish consorts that do not smell like pigs. Now go, or you will sleep in any bed but mine.” 

Begrudgingly but quickly, they slip off the mattress, shuffling out of their robes, probably just to taunt him with their naked bodies as they hurry to the washroom. He watches after them as they go, beautiful brats that they are, reeking of arousal and ripe pheromones. The dirty robes are left on his floor, and he kicks them aside until he can have a servant clean them up.

Before he follows, he sets his crown aside, safe from the dirtiness to come.


End file.
